


Beam Me Back!

by thefrizzycurlyblonde



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Engineer Reader, Female Reader, Multi, No use of y/n, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader is from the past, Student Reader, ambiguous timing, mild panic in the first two chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrizzycurlyblonde/pseuds/thefrizzycurlyblonde
Summary: You're a 21st century aerospace engineering student who has dreamed of space for years when a transporter malfunction plops you into the 23rd century and onto the Enterprise. Now that you're faced with the cold, hard truths of space, you have to reevaluate what your dreams really are. Will you ever get back home or will this become your new life? And will the dashing young captain of the ship you're stuck on complicate things?
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Reader, Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. I'm An Engineer, Not An Astronaut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! This is my first Trek fic and is only my second published fic, so I really hope you like it. Also, I picked a career for the sake of the later parts of this story. I've only got a few chapters written, but I'm willing to be in this for the long haul if it goes well.  
> I also made a light assumption that the Reader is at least studying in America (not because I think America is the center of the universe, but because I know how American schools work, haha). It isn't super overt, but if something confuses you, that's probably why.  
> Also, there is some mild panic (not related to an anxiety disorder, just a reaction to an entirely unfamiliar situation) in the first two chapters. It's described, so if that bothers you let me know and I'll see what I can figure out. I want everyone to be able to enjoy the story, but it felt too unrealistic to not have the Reader panic at being beamed into space three hundred years into the future.

You were almost entirely certain that you were dead. Or in a coma. The only two likely scenarios for the extremely vivid but wildly impossible situation you found yourself in. It must be your neurochemicals going haywire in your last moments of life. That’s it. It’s a pre-death hallucination. The only question you have left now is, how did you die? 

It had started out as a pretty typical day. You woke up after a few iterations of the snooze-sleep-wake cycle that was brought on by a general lack of sleep. It was a Monday, which just made it worse. You dressed in your most comfortable outfit (which invariably included one of your many NASA hoodies) to try and offset the deep discomfort you were facing at going back to class for the week. You loved your major, you really did, but something about listening to a professor that is older than the subject you’re studying really sucks the fun out of it. 

You started making your way to the dining hall when you ran into one of your friends, Nia, who was also studying aerospace engineering. She greeted you with a scowl, clearly unhappy that she had to be awake for a 7:30 fluid dynamics exam. You took fluids last year, so you had been helping her understand the finer points of Bernoulli’s equation and its uses, among other difficulties. It was finally the moment of truth, the time when you would see if her hard work (and yours) had paid off and she was not the least bit happy about it.

“You ready for this test?” You asked her with a knowing smile.

“No. Not even remotely,” her scowl deepened, even though you thought it wasn’t possible. You laughed as the two of you finally entered the dining hall, swiping your ID cards at the front. Nia made a beeline for the coffee as you wandered around, trying to decide what to eat. Once you got your food, the two of you sat down at a booth and discussed the upcoming week’s events.

“There’s that satellite launch viewing in the auditorium on Wednesday,” you said between bites.

“Oh, yeah, I hear they’re gonna have bagels. We should absolutely go.”

“Do you even care that they’re putting something in space?” You asked with a laugh, knowing the answer already.

“Of course, but space is an abstract concept to us right now. Bagels are very real and very yummy.”

“Of course.” You said with a light dusting of mirth.

After you finished your food, the two of you parted ways to go to your respective classes. Your first class was actually a lab at 8, but you didn’t like hanging around the electronics lab too early. There wasn’t a lot of space to work on your other homework among all of the equipment and you wanted to make use of every minute you could so that at least some of your evening was free. With this in mind, you checked the schedule for a classroom and ducked in when you saw that it didn’t have an 8:00 class. 

You pulled out your laptop and notebook, getting to work on some Linear Vibrations practice problems when things got freaky. You had just barely pressed your pencil to the paper when you felt like your skin was buzzing, almost as if you were covered in bees. Then you noticed the light. It was blinding, everywhere, and absolutely beautiful. That was, until you felt your stomach lurch like you were falling. By the time it stopped, you actually were falling, just not as far as it felt last time. Your butt landed on what felt like a glass or tile floor, but you still held your eyes shut tightly out of fear. Only after a few moments did you realize that you had been screaming that entire time. You really hoped nobody heard you in the hall. That would have been mortifying. 

Slowly, dreading the sight of curious onlookers that would certainly befall you, you opened your eyes. What met you when you did is something you will never forget. A man in a red shirt with a horrified look on his face was hovering over you, but you couldn’t focus on him. Instead, your eyes were locked on some sort of creature. It was vaguely lizard-like, grey, bumpy, and very short. The most disconcerting part of its face was the huge, shiny eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. You began screaming again. 

“Well, that’s just rude, now, innit?” The man said, a thick Scottish accent dripping around his words.

You stopped screaming as it sank in that this man was human, unlike his tiny reptilian companion. 

Feeling helpless and terrified, you turned to the human and said the only thing your brain could muster at the time: “You’re Scottish!”

The man laughed incredulously. “Yes. You’re not. What’s it to ya?”

“N-Nothing. I just. I-” you looked back toward the creature. “I- I’m sorry, but what is that?” 

The creature shot a look of hurt at the Scottish man. You felt a bit of shock and remorse at his display of emotion.

“Well, there’s no need for you to be so rude, lass. That’s Keenser. He’s me assistant.” 

“Your what?” You finally sat up and took in the fact that you were no longer in the classroom and none of your stuff was with you.

“Assistant. He’s mostly good for the Jefferies tubes bein’ all small ‘n all.”

“What’s a Jefferies tube? And how is he your assistant? He’s- He’s” You gave up trying for words and tried again with a sigh. “Where am I?”

“Why, you’re on the Enterprise, of course!” the Scottish man smiled brilliantly, but you had no clue what that even meant. “I’ve got to call the cap’n in. You let off some odd transporter signals when we beamed you up. Standard procedure says you stay here until we can evaluate ya, but I got an away team waiting for me to transport them up an’ you don’t want to see the Commander when he’s angry.” 

“I-” you started, swallowing thickly, “I don’t know what any of that means. I think- I think I need a doctor.” You stumbled through your words like you were verbally trying to recreate your first time trying to jump over a hurdle.

“‘O course, I’ll have Keenser take ya to the medbay so long as ya promise to be civil to ‘im. He’s sensitive.”

You nod, not wanting to be rude for a third time since meeting him. The Scottish man stretched out a hand and you took it without hesitation, using his arm as leverage to stand up fully. 

You looked around once again when it hit you that neither of you knew each other's names, but you really didn’t get a chance to ask him for his because almost as soon as you were standing on your own, Keenser was corralling you towards a set of automatic doors that made a satisfying little woosh as you stepped out of them and into a hallway that was bustling with activity. 

Everyone was dressed vaguely like a futuristic member of the Wiggles and walked with such purpose. The walls curved around and Keenser led you from hallway to hallway until you arrived at an elevator of sorts. Everything looked sleek and futuristic here. You wondered if you had ended up at some new hospital or something, but nothing was really making sense about this whole situation.

The two of you rode the (admittedly very smooth) elevator to another floor where Keenser guided you to a room that was only slightly less busy than the hallway outside of it. There were hospital beds and privacy curtains everywhere, which solidified your theory that this was a center for advanced medicine or something similar. Upon your arrival, Keenser looked up at you indignantly and then abruptly turned and left, leaving you standing in the middle of a hospital wing with no idea what hospital you were even in. 

Suddenly, a man with short, dark hair and a very blue shirt was muttering in a southern accent about “them damn transporters” and guiding you to a hospital bed. You complied and sat down without prompting, assuming he was a nurse or doctor of some sort. You were a bit miffed at the lack of a check-in process, but maybe you had already checked in and just didn’t remember it. It was plausible, you argued, because you couldn’t remember how you had gotten here.

The man pulled out a device and started waving it in front of your face. It confused you, but you got your wits about you and realized that you hadn’t introduced yourself, so you did. The man (with the admittedly very pretty eyes) looked down at you in confusion.

“I’m Doctor McCoy. Chief Medical Officer.” He looked back down to the device that was now beeping in his hands. 

“Officer? Like the military? Am I in a military hospital?” You looked around. Civilians didn’t get treated in military hospitals unless you were the president. You were most certainly not the president. 

“Military hospital? What are you talkin’ about? You’re on the Enterprise.”

“Sorry, sir, but I still don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. I think I have a head injury or something. Maybe those lights were a seizure? Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?”

“Kid, you’re not making any sense.” The machine started to beep again. “And neither are these readings. They say you’re roughly three hundred years old.”

“Well, I can guarantee you that’s wrong, unless I am the best looking three hundred year old ever. Also, how did you get that information by just waving that thing around like a magic wand? You didn’t even take my blood or hook me up to a vitals machine.”

“Vitals machine? Blood? The biobed reads your vital signatures without the need of adhesive sensors and the tricorder can analyze your cells without the use of needles. You really talk like a 300-year-old lady.” The doctor gave you a bewildered look.

“Tricorder? You’re talking like this is all common tech, but I can assure you that even my biomedical engineering friends haven’t seen a device that can just read your genetic information without a sample. What the hell is going on here?” You were really starting to freak out. Your head was pounding and it felt like your heartbeat was being played through speakers right next to your ears. Your skin felt hot and your vision started blurring. 

You vaguely heard a shout from the doctor just before everything went black.


	2. NASA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is, in fact, a reference to Ariana Grande's masterpiece of a song "NASA" and also, y'know, NASA. But mostly the song. Also, it was a heckin' struggle to keep birth years and current years vague because I didn't want to lock the story into an age-specific one nor did I really want the "past" portion of this to take place in 2020 for... obvious reasons.  
> Stay safe out there, folks.

You woke up to that doctor hovering over your face holding that damn machine again. He was saying something, but you couldn’t really make it out. It was almost like you were still partially asleep. Eventually you finally regained your senses, but things didn’t actually start to make any more sense. 

You tried to sit up, but the doctor just shoved your shoulder back down gently. 

“You just fainted. Standing up too quickly could cause your blood pressure to drop and then boom! You’ll have fainted again.” He didn’t actually look at you as he said this, his eyes glued to the device in front of him, his brow knit in confusion.

He finally looked at you, the confusion only deepening. “What’s the last thing you remember before the transporter brought you aboard?”

“Do you mean before the lights came? I was doing linear vibrations homework in the engineering building. Then it felt like I was being yanked through something by a beam of light. Then I woke up with a Scottish man and a Keenser, whatever the hell that is, hovering over my head. Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on, or am I just going to have to adjust to this constant state of panic, because that sounds exhausting.” You realized that you probably looked manic, but you felt like you deserved to look a little manic when nobody would tell you a damn thing. 

“Well, I ran the scans again. Unless all of my tricorders are broken, you are, on a cellular level, about 250 years old. It isn't perfect because it isn't meant for archeological dating, but it's as accurate as it really needs to be.” Dr. McCoy looked weary and shocked.

“Do I look like I was born in the 1700’s?” You exclaimed, sick of this practical joke already.

“The 1700’s? Two hundred and fifty years ago was the 21st century.” The doctor’s confusion was just growing by the minute, but your own was off the charts.

“No, no, no, no. This is the worst joke ever. I mean,” you laughed a bit maniacally, “the world won’t even survive past the 21st century with the way global warming is going. Not to mention I know for a fact that I have not been travelling at the speed of light into the future!” 

You sucked in a few heaving breaths to try and calm your scattered thoughts, but it was really no use. You lept out of the bed, despite Dr. McCoy’s objections and ran out through the automatic doors and into the hall. You kept running, just trying to find a way out of the infernally large building they had you trapped in. 

Was this some sort of psychological torture. You’d heard the interview process for being a government contractor was rigorous, but you never thought they’d go this far with it. Would they?

Finally, you had to stop, leaning against a window. It was dark outside, which means you lost at least 12 hours. A small voice in your head reminded you that you’ll have to make up the work you’ve missed, but you pushed it down, not needing yet another thing to worry about. As you pulled yourself out of your thoughts, you realized that the view from the window was odd. There were stars everywhere, but nothing else. Then you looked down and you realized that there wasn’t actually a “down”. 

It was at this moment that Dr. McCoy finally caught up with you, two men in red shirts following behind him. They approached you like you were a wild animal, the doctor with his arms wide, all of them taking slow, small steps. 

You turned to face them fully, tears threatening to spill as you realized that you were living out your dream, but it felt more like a nightmare. 

“Am I in space?” You whispered, your lip quivering. 

“Well, yes,” the doctor said, softly, with that confused look still plastered on his face.

You let out a little whimper before silent sobs wracked your body and you turned back to the window. The three men stood there looking clueless. 

You heard Dr. McCoy say something to someone named Jim, who you assumed was one of the men with him, but all that was going through your mind right now was “I am in space, I am in space, I am in space” and it was hard to not be thoroughly overwhelmed by that. Even if your lifelong dreams weren’t about space, it would be overwhelming, but to be on a massive spaceship floating through the unknown and doing what only a fraction of humans had ever gotten to do on what is presumably the greatest feat of engineering you’d ever get to see, it was all a bit too much to handle. 

Eventually, your sobs died down and the crying slowed. You wiped your eyes on your sweatshirt sleeve and turned to be greeted by even more new faces. One of which was a very handsome man who was not much older than yourself. The other was… well, you didn’t know what he was. He had pointy ears and looked a bit green around the gills. 

You cleared your throat and turned to the pointy-eared man. “Are you alright? You look a bit… sick.”

The man tilted his head slightly to the right, his brow furrowing at you. 

“I feel perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” The man had a measured tone, displaying no real emotion other than a hint of curiosity.

“It’s just, you look… green?” You weren’t sure why this made you feel embarrassed, but you looked at him a bit sheepishly. Suddenly the handsome man burst out laughing, lightly slapping the pointy-eared man on the arm.

“D’ya hear that, Spock? You look a little green!” You didn’t know why this was so funny, but you had to force yourself not to smile. This was a serious situation you were in. Eventually the man’s laughter died down and he wiped a stray tear out of his eye. The other man, Spock, looked unamused. 

Spock turned back to face you. “I look green because my blood is green, just as your species has pink in their skin from their red blood.” He said this very matter-of-factly.

You were shocked. “What do you mean, ‘my species’? Are you saying you’re an alien? Or would that make me the alien? Are any of you actually human or was I just assuming that because you look human. Oh no, have I been abducted by aliens? Am I the first human you have all met? I promise, most of them are a lot nicer and better than me, I just had no idea what’s going on. Also, what gives you the right to abduct me like that! I have rights, you know? I am a sentient being and deserve to know what is happening to me.” 

You had rambled on for so long that you were actually out of breath by the end of it. The handsome man who had laughed at you earlier was looking at you in shock. Actually, all five men were. Or could you call them men? They were aliens. Maybe they looked like human men just to attempt to fit into your mental picture of what life looks like.

When you finally caught your breath and the shock had worn off for the handsome man, he slowly stepped forward, extending his hand in greeting. 

“My name is Captain James T. Kirk, yes, I am human. ‘M from Iowa, actually.” He turned to his friend, Spock, “this here is Spock, our second in command. He is half human and half Vulcan.” He then turned to the doctor, which you had mostly forgotten was there. “This is Dr. Leonard McCoy. He’s scientifically classified as human, but I consider him half-human, half-grump. He inherited none of the southern charm his state is famous for.” The captain gave a small smile at his own joke. You couldn’t help that your lip twitched just slightly upwards.

You looked between all the men that were essentially surrounding you and it really began to sink in that you were in the future. A future where spaceflight was not only very possible, but very common, by the way they interacted with other species. You began to cry again, this time slow, happy tears at the idea that the goal you were working towards in your own time actually came true, just not actually in your own time. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blubbered, “I almost never cry this much. I actually don’t know what’s happening. I think it’s the fact that I am in space. This is my dream come true. I thought the furthest I would get to send anything was Mars, but from the size of this ship, I have a feeling we’re a long way from Mars.” You laughed through the remainder of your tears.  
“You would be correct. We are approximately 3,000 light years from Mars.” Spock supplied.

“Ah, yes, 3,000 light years. A totally… reasonable number that is also totally three times the distance from the Earth to Orion. That’s absolutely possible.” You were essentially shaking with excitement and disbelief.

“I do not-” Spock began, but the Captain cut him off.

“Why don’t we get you to some guest quarters so you can let this all sink in before we figure out how to get you back to your own time?” He extended an arm and you walked forward as his hand hovered over the middle of your back. He tapped a metal pin on his shirt and it beeped a bit before he started talking.

“Logistics, it’s Kirk. We need guest quarters prepared as soon as possible. Let me know when they’re ready. Kirk out.”

The two of you walked in relative silence, which you were absolutely grateful for. You had no idea what to say and didn’t really want to think too much about anything at all. Eventually he led you into a room with a lot of tables. Some people were scattered about, eating various foods. You hadn’t even considered how they got their food. Maybe they grew it themselves, although that would have to be one big flying greenhouse. 

“This is the mess hall. We get all of our food from the replicators over there.” He seemed to answer one of your questions by replacing it with thirty more, but you bit them all back. You thought that if you were to actually get the answers to them, you might send yourself into a catatonic state with how overwhelming this all was, so you just nodded at him. He turned to you and his bright blue eyes seemed to glitter.

“Can I have something to eat? I feel like I haven’t had anything in hundreds of years,” you deadpanned.

Kirk, as he referred to himself, laughed heartily and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll show you how to use the replicators. They aren’t too tricky once you get the gist of it.”

After you had managed to finally replicate a bowl of mac and cheese for yourself and, as a bit of practice, a cheeseburger for Kirk, the two of you sat at a table to eat. 

“So did you work for NASA?” He finally broke the silence.

You looked at him with a puzzled expression until he gestured down at your sweatshirt that was emblazoned with the NASA worm logo. You laughed gently.

“No, although I wish I was. I’m actually an aerospace engineering student. Third year. Although, with all the tech you guys have, I probably know as much as your average fifth grader.” You looked down at your bowl wistfully. You probably couldn’t even understand half the advancements they’d made in the last three centuries. You had become the old woman who didn’t understand the internet. Suddenly, something occurred to you.

“Do people still read books?” You asked, urgency filling your eyes.

“Well, yeah, we aren’t illiterate. We can read anything we want. We just download them on our PADDs.” Kirk smiled a bit quizzically at you.

“Oh. I meant actual books. You know, with paper. I guess they aren’t very good for the environment, though.” You pushed your noodles around your bowl.

“Well, most people don’t because they’re a bit hard to come by, but I do have a few antique ones in my quarters. I like antiques.” The way he looked at you made you feel odd. In a good way, but odd nonetheless. 

“Oh, cool! I was scared that I’d never see another book again. I just realized that I left nearly two hundred books behind.” You smiled nonchalantly until Kirk dropped his burger back onto his plate in surprise. 

“Two hundred? As in one hundred times two? Fifty times four? Twenty five time-” 

“Yes, two hundred. It’s a lot, even for my time, but not as many as some.” You cut him off.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just never heard of a single person having that many. Books are very hard to come by these days. Most were acquisitioned by libraries to preserve them for posterity after they stopped being produced. New texts are all digital unless you print and bind it yourself.”

“Oh, wow. Tell me more about what Earth is like now. Do only the rich get to go to space? That was a thing back in my time. People were trying to push for commercial space flight, but we were afraid that only the extremely rich would get to go.”

“Oh, no, not everybody gets to go off planet for one reason or another, but most people do have the chance. Especially for those, like me, who signed up for Starfleet.”

The two of you talked for what seemed both like minutes and hours until his communications badge, as you learned it was called, beeped to alert you that your quarters were ready. Kirk showed you through the ship to your quarters where you parted ways. 

As soon as you figured out how to lock the door so that it wouldn’t just open every time someone walked by, you flopped on top of the bed fully dressed, having no clothes to change into and no energy to change out of the ones you were wearing anyways.

It had been the longest of days and the hum of the ship lulled you to sleep almost immediately.


End file.
